


A Song in the Dark

by estelraca



Category: Onmyouji | The Yin-Yang Master (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: When Hiromasa asks Seimei to help stop a string of odd curses, Seimei agrees.  He didn't expect it to end up with the both of them standing in an abandoned shrine facing off against another old, angry spirit.
Relationships: Abe no Seimei/Minamoto no Hiromasa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32
Collections: Parallels Fanworks Exchange 2020





	A Song in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Allekha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allekha/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this! I absolutely adore these movies and these characters. I tried to combine a few of your prompts, all of which were wonderful.

_A Song in the Dark_

“This wasn't quite what I intended to have happen.” Seimei's voice sounds more amused than anything else, but that doesn't always mean much. Seimei learned young to hide any emotions that made him more vulnerable than amusement did. “Hiromasa, please be still.”

I flutter about the room, scanning for anything useful. I can't affect much in my butterfly form, but I can act as eyes for Seimei, and sometimes that's all he needs.

Hiromasa doesn't question Seimei's request, freezing where he is. He's still dressed in his court clothes, the layers only slightly mussed by the trip down through the layers of the shrine.

Dark lines of curse energy writhe along the ground, seeking out the ones who triggered them. Seimei's protections hold, for now, and they don't seem able to find purchase around either Seimei or Hiromasa.

“Can I speak?” Hiromasa's words are a quiet whisper, just loud enough to reach Seimei's superhuman ears.

And mine, but for all his kindness Hiromasa doesn't always know how to deal with what I am. Am I a tool, another, better shikigami in Seimei's set? Am I a youkai, bound into service? Am I Seimei's friend? Am I _Hiromasa's_ friend? When I am in my human form, Hiromasa tends to act that way, but when I am noticeably inhuman he is more wary.

“You can speak so long as you speak quietly.” Seimei's eyes are searching the edges of the room, picking out the same marks on the dark stone that I am.

Someone wrote on these walls, and if I am not mistaken the ink that they used was at least partly cut with human blood.

“Where are we?” Hiromasa's words waver just slightly.

“We are exactly where we intended to go, in the shrine beneath the shrine. I told you if you didn't want to see then you shouldn't come.” There's a gentle note of chastisement to Seimei's voice, but I know Seimei. I can see Seimei's magic, stretching around Hiromasa in a brighter protective barrier than what surrounds Seimei himself.

“I was the one who asked you to come here.” Hiromasa lifts his chin, and his hat brushes the ceiling, tilting off-center on his head. “I wasn't going to let you come into danger alone. It's the two of us who protect the nation, isn't it?”

“The nation wouldn't need so much protecting if people had just made better decisions in the past.” Seimei gestures to the furthest wall. “Mitsumushi, will you check in that corner for me?”

I fly where Seimei directed, getting a closer look at the shadow-shrouded, ancient words.

Fluttering back to Seimei, I settle on his shoulder and describe what I had seen. It's an easy, familiar action, something I have done hundreds of times since Seimei first coaxed me into becoming his partner.

“This isn't a shrine to Inari anymore, is it?” Hiromasa is studying the shifting shadows around him, and whether he recognizes how great the danger he is in or not, he is careful to stay still and not move out of Seimei's protection.

“The shrine to Inari was built atop a far older structure. Something was entombed here, though I'm having a hard time figuring out the exact sequence of events. It seems like there was a wanyudo, perhaps...” Seimei frowns hard, pulling a scrap of paper from one of his pockets and whispering an incantation. Light flows out of the paper, allowing us to better study some of the words. “Someone needed to improve their calligraphy. If you truly want a message to pass down through the ages, then it needs to be incredibly legible when you first put it down.”

Hiromasa has paled slightly, though he doesn't look away from the images that Seimei has revealed more fully. “There... is a lot of death described here.”

“Yes. A lot of death that was stopped by entombing and sealing the creature responsible, except the seals on the tomb are wearing thin. No one had replenished them like they should, and Inari—” Seimei glances in irritation towards the entrance we had used to get down here. “Seems to be inclined to just let what is happening here go unchecked.”

Hiromasa frowns. “None of the priests and priestesses at the shrine have become ill or had problems. It's just been people in the town and those at court who have... had reasons to go to town.”

I flutter my wings, tittering at Hiromasa's gentle way of speaking. I would say it will prevent the man from ever having a good romance, but he seems more than capable of turning heads, both male and female. It's something in his earnestness, I think—something in the way his demeanor is so much _himself_ and not any type of mask.

I do not know how he survived so long at court, with the intrigues that abound there. Perhaps even those ruthless folk felt too terrible breaking Hiromasa's heart. Though that doesn't give Hiromasa enough credit—he is no fool, completely unaware of what's happening around him. He just... wants people to be good, and acts as though they were, and tries to make them be good even if they are more inclined to be selfish and cruel.

He is just what Seimei needed, and I am glad that Seimei found him.

“If you could stop watching Hiromasa and focus a bit more...” Seimei's words are so soft I am certain Hiromasa cannot hear them.

I laugh as I launch myself off Seimei's shoulder and towards the spot he has indicated. I have no interest in Hiromasa as anything more than Seimei's friend and companion and potential lover. Not that any of these three things are small matters—Seimei is someone I adore, someone who has earned and repaid my loyalty and love over the years, and I am glad to see him find someone who encourages such emotions in him.

Seimei is half-human, after all. It can't be good for him to find more companionship among the youkai and spirits than he does among his own kind.

I flutter above the area that Seimei had indicated, waiting for his confirmation. He nods, and I shift to my human form, dropping near-soundlessly to the ground.

The curse immediately shifts towards me, though it doesn't react the way that it does to Seimei and Hiromasa. I am not human, after all. I am less likely to be immediately overwhelmed by magic, and more likely to be able to be swayed to the side of a spirit.

Or I would be, if I had not already pledged myself to Seimei, a deal I am still very happy about making.

Seimei begins whispering, his quiet, intense voice filling the air around us with power. He raises his hands, his body helping to shape the power that he is drawing on.

I begin moving my own body, not quite mirroring him, reflecting and adding more nuance to the spell that he is crafting.

The black snakes of the curse begin pooling around me, but Seimei did not send me out without protection. They writhe perhaps a hand's span from my feet, but they cannot reach me.

As the spell continues to build, one of the snakes rears back. Its eyes are bright red, and its tongue flicks out in quick, angry bursts. It launches itself at my face, and though I don't flinch, I do freeze.

Seimei's protections hold. A flare of light destroys the snake, but the ones pressed against my feet slide closer, until I can feel the cold of their presence.

“Mitsumushi!” Seimei's voice is full of quiet urgency. “You—”

And then another sound cuts him off.

I have heard Hiromasa play before. I have loved it every time, and this is no exception. The music that pours forth from Hiromasa's flute is beautiful, not just technically wonderful but full of emotion. The notes waver and weave, a cry of desperation, a reaching across the vastness of space that separates one being from another, a searching for connection that the musician is sure can be found.

It draws the attention of all the curse-snakes, which shift their focus from Seimei and I to Hiromasa.

I see Seimei's mouth start to form the familiar cry of _Hiromasa_ , but he doesn't waste the breath or time. There isn't room for either.

Instead he moves, and I try to keep up with him. It's an impossible task, because Seimei is clever even for a kitsune, stubborn and difficult beyond the dreams of most humans. He is the best of both his parents, and he is determined to protect Hiromasa.

Four swift leaps take him around the perimeter of the room, and flicks his hand each time he steps down. The words of a spell continue to fall from his lips, steady and certain, their cadence matching themselves to Hiromasa's music, though for each note that Hiromasa plays Seimei has already spoken a half-dozen syllables.

I form a smaller circle, my leaps not nearly so impressive, my spellwork merely enhancing Seimei's.

It's enough. The spell comes together faster than it should have, and I realize belatedly that Seimei had been enhancing it with his blood, shaking a few drops from his left hand each time he touches down. It isn't the smartest or most sustainable way to enhance magic, but I know it's a small price to pay to keep Hiromasa safe.

Light flares out, blinding, a miniature sun in the enclosed space.

Hiromasa continues to play through the flare, his music a haunting counterpoint to the raging of magic against magic, of Seimei's will against that of the spirit that has been responding to ill-wishes and cruel thoughts for the last two weeks.

The spirit has been gathering power to itself, collecting offerings even when it wasn't what people intended.

Seimei is the strongest onmyouji of his generation—perhaps of any generation.

There isn't any contest.

When the light dies down, there is no trace of the black curse-snakes anywhere. The walls seem... _less_ than they had been before, their bloody markings now more sad than sinister.

And Hiromasa stands utterly still, his eyes squeezed shut, continuing to play his flute.

Seimei takes a moment to collect himself, letting out a silent sigh. He turns to me first, asking without words whether I was hurt.

I shake my head. I was startled, and I am a bit ashamed of that, but I am unharmed.

Satisfied that I'm fine, Seimei turns to Hiromasa. As he covers the distance to Hiromasa's side, Seimei uses a small cloth to wipe the remaining blood carefully from his hand before tucking it away. When he stands before Hiromasa, there is no trace of anything amiss. He waits for the note that Hiromasa is holding to fade away, and then reaches out to touch Hiromasa's cheek with his right hand. “Hiromasa...”

Hiromasa opens his eyes, looking around and sagging in relief. Then his attention returns to Seimei, and he smiles, expression sheepish. “You said not to move. You didn't say I couldn't play.”

“Hiromasa.” I smile as I repeat his name, etching it into my long, long memory. “You are a wonderful and good and foolish man.”

Hiromasa's expression falls into a familiar pout, and I laugh before turning back into my butterfly form.

Apparently unable to argue with my butterfly self, Hiromasa gestures to the far end of the shrine. “The danger...?”

“Dealt with for now.” Seimei points to where one of his signature stars marks the ground. There are five of them in all, and I can see the way the magic plays between them, sealing this place once again. “I will decide if a longer-term solution is possible later.”

“There has to be one. We can't leave this as a threat for others to face later.” Hiromasa's fingers are tight on his flute.

Seimei's expression softens. “I will ensure no one is hurt here in the future. If it will make you happy, I promise it to you.”

Hiromasa blinks, clearly surprised at the offer. “I... thank you, Seimei. For now, then... we go home?”

Seimei nods. “We go home. You're going to bathe with me, so I can ensure there's no trace of a spell on you—nothing to give either of us a nasty shock later.”

Hiromasa's cheeks flush, his eyes widening slightly, and I think perhaps I returned to my butterfly form too soon. This would be a good time to hide my mouth or give a brief chuckle.

Seimei's hand on Hiromasa's shoulder has Hiromasa turned around and heading back towards the relative safety of Inari's shrine.

Seimei lags behind just a bit, his eyes on his hand, his expression thoughtful.

I flutter from his fingers to his shoulder, inviting him to share his thoughts.

“It's just...” Seimei drops his hand, his voice quiet, meant only for me. “He shouldn't have been able to affect the magic like that. He's no onmyouji. Attract the snake's attention, yes, but his music...”

I lift my legs in a little dance on Seimei's shoulder.

“I don't know.” Seimei's consideration gives way to a fox's grin. “His life was a gift to me. Perhaps... perhaps there was a gift for him in it, too. We shall have to see what the future brings.”

It's the most excited I've seen Seimei about the future in a very long time, and I climb up onto his neck, rubbing my antenna against his skin.

Hiromasa was a gift to all of Seimei's household, and I look forward to watching both the bath that is to come and all the magic that might follow after it.

I bound myself to Seimei long ago, but Seimei has clearly bound himself to Hiromasa, and this is an expansion of our family that I am more than pleased to help to fruition.


End file.
